Once upon a time there was a little lass of 22 months who fell in love. With who, you ask? Oh no, not who, but what.
A potty. She fell in love with a potty.
And I mean, IN LOVE. We had bought a handful of potty books while we were out one day, with full intentions of putting them away for a few months. I was pregnant and let me just say that potty training and pregnancy do not really mix all that well especially if you are prone to puke every 15 to 30 minutes. Also we were told by several people, including Rowan’s doctor, that she was bound to regress once the baby came anyway so why put yourself through it twice.
Well, she found the books, became quickly obsessed, and all we heard about was potties! and pee-pee! and poop! and wiping! and “I want my own potty!” and after saying to her over and over “soon” and “not yet” we wondered why we were putting ourselves through this. If the kid wants a potty, lets just get her a dang potty! So in July, after I was well enough to be upgraded from bathroom floor and/or bed sick to upright on couch sick, we got Rowan a potty and she sat on that thing for hours. Like, at a time. That is not a typo. HOURS.
She would stack a pile of books carefully next to the potty, ask for her diaper to be removed and that was that. She would rarely actually use the potty for its intended purpose, opting to pee on the floor two minutes after she got up, but MAN she loved that potty and we thought it was funny so we let her hang out on it for as long as she wanted.
Once October hit, I got a bee in my bonnet to actually start day training her. She was now showing a number of the actual signs of readiness and I thought that with a little help and direction she might actually get the hang of it. AND this is where children use their spidey senses to see through you and understand that you expect something out of them so they do a complete 180 and want nothing to do with it. A power struggle ensued and she won by a landslide. There was about 2 weeks here where she actually seemed trained but then she had a few substantial accidents so I followed the advice of Dr. Google and put her back in a diaper for a week to give her a break and then tried again.
Only, in that week off she decided that going to the bathroom in a diaper was much easier than going in a potty and she wanted NOTHING to do with her potty unless of course she just wanted to sit and read her books on it. So strange. So I let it go. Keaton was born a few weeks later and we were too busy getting screamed by Baby Scream Face to care so much about the potty. We kept it out and accessible and if she asked to sit on it we always obliged, rewarding her with treats and stickers, neither of which kept her motivated enough to be consistent.
In the spring Rowan showed renewed interest and so I took her to Target and let her pick out a ton of undies. No really, A TON. She was so excited. After washing them I put them in a giant tupperware bowl dubbed “The Underoo Bowl” and every time she used her potty she got to pick out and put on a new pair. We started this on a Monday, and by Thursday she was pretty much trained. I found it absolutely amazing at how fast she caught on once she was truly ready and I kicked myself for pushing her when clearly she wasn’t there yet. So 9 months after we started, she was done (day training, night came much later), though had I waited until her body was aware of the signs I could’ve changed that “9 months” into “4 days”. That would have been easier, but also would have deprived her of her first one, true love.
Flash forward to a little lad of 22 months. Though Rowan has graduated to using the big potty, she still uses her little potty at night, which we put next to her bed so she doesn’t have to wander to the bathroom which has much potential for waking her brother up. In the morning I empty it out and store it in the bathroom. A few weeks ago Keaton took notice of it and what do you think happened? Love at first sight. What is it with my kids and potties?!
Every time we get him undressed for the bath he pulls the potty out and plops down, giving his best constipation face, then smiles and exclaims “I did it! All done!” We thought it was cute but there was no way I was starting him on THAT train yet. After Rowan I now know that the kid will really, genuinely tell you when their bodies are ready for this whole potty training business and Keaton is light years away from being there.
So we largely ignored these cute little episodes until one day last week when Keaton sat down on Rowan’s potty, and peed. Here is where I learned a valuable lesson about the difference between girl and boy parts and why it is actually necessary to have a special potty for boys. One that comes with a guard that will save your rug, pant leg and socks. So none of the actual pee made it into the potty, save a little dribble but wow he was so proud of himself.
Then I made the off hand comment about how we will have to get Keaton his very own big boy potty, and for the next few days all I heard was “OWN POTTY! OWN POTTY!” and since I am powerless against His Royal Yelliness, I went ahead and got him his very own potty.
Weinerhausen shield included!
Rowan showing the newbie the ropes. "No no, Sir. That is not for pee-pee. It is for butt wipes!"
He actually did sit right down and pee on it and I'm happy to report my socks stayed dry.
I should add that I am, for now at least, considering this potty a toy. I know his body is no where near being ready to train and I refuse to put him or the rest of us through trying to force something that isn’t happening. Every kid is different, but SO many moms have told me it’s pointless to train a boy before two and a half. Even still. I can’t deny him the love of his first own potty, which is apparently really important when you are born with Gunter genetics.
My super kaduper life 